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Elminster
Speaks - Part 2

By Ed Greenwood

The Bron of Voonlar

The Bron keeps law in Voonlar, acting as both judge and enforcer, with the
aid of six deputies and a militia in cases of emergency. A worshiper of Bane
who smoothly embraced the faith of Cyric after the Time of Troubles, Buorstag
Hlammythyl was born on a now-vanished farm not far north of Voonlar. He took
to the life of the sword at an early age, after many pitched battles against
his surly father.

He spent almost two decades fighting in the Vast, the Vilhon, the northern
Moonsea, and briefly in the service of certain families of Westgate and of Sembia.
He acquired many scars but little gold before retiring to the town he often
ran away to in his youth, Voonlar.

Buorstag is a burly, fat, pimpled man of many scars, sporting an untidy moustache
and an aggressive nature that has led to his being called the Boar
behind his back. He has a loud, hoarse voice, a swaggering nature, a certain
low cunning, and absolute obedience to suggestions made by visiting
Zhentarim. Its often suspected that visiting Zhents take turns idly voicing
contrary opinions just to watch the Bron of Voonlar change his ways of doing
things completely, only to change them right back again at the whispered command
of the next passing agent.

Thanks to his swindling and brutality, Buorstag has made many enemies during
his mercenary days. Unfortunately for him, he didnt manage to kill all
of them. Hed like to be free of the fear that theyll one day hunt
him down and slay him for his past transgressions, and the Bron will jump at
any chance to magically change his looks, preferably to something more handsome.
Hed like to again enjoy feminine companionship that doesnt come
to him through fear, payment, or outright coercion. Like many brutes, he looks
forward to the day when hell have money enough to retire to some secure
backwater town elsewhere in the Realms (Secomber, he thinks, or perhaps an upland
Sembian villa) to live out his days in luxury.

Buorstag secretly loves music, dancing, and hearing good tales told well. He
never misses a minstrel or bardic performance in Voonlar, though he often sneaks
in behind curtains, in shadows, or in nearby rooms, not wanting to be seen enthralled
by the townsfolk. He loves the pepper cheese of Tethyr, roast boar, and warm,
sugared milk, but he cultivates the image of the prodigious drinker because
he thinks it makes Voonlarrans look up to him as manly.

Despite having to make frequent say nothing about this misdeed, please
payments to various Zhent agents, the Bron is slowly building his personal wealth,
keeping an old cauldron full of gold coins hidden up an unused fireplace chimney
in his bedroom in the Locktower. He also has a smaller sack of mixed coins buried
in the woods at the foot of a certain dead tree in the woods just south of the
town dump. Strapped to the underside of his bed is a belt into which hes
laboriously sewn emeralds, sapphires, and rubies acquired by theft or purchase.